


Rue Saint-Martin

by Silbrith



Series: Tales from the Library [5]
Category: The Invisible Library - Genevieve Cogman
Genre: Gen, Mystery, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 08:44:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21491545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silbrith/pseuds/Silbrith
Summary: Paris during the French Revolution is not a friendly place for Irene and Kai. Story #5 in the series Tales from the Library.
Series: Tales from the Library [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1130927
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Going Freelance

**Within the Invisible Library**

Kai leaped out of his chair when Irene exited Coppelia's office. "What was her reaction?" His effort to appear nonchalant made Irene realize he needed to work harder at masking his emotions.

She'd expected to be pelted with questions as soon as she left the interview. Her assistant had been forced to cool his heels in the waiting room for the past half hour while she detailed to her supervisor why she believed there was a traitor in the Library.

"Let's talk in my quarters," Irene suggested.

His face brightened at the invitation. Kai had never visited her suite. He was likely as curious about her living quarters as she was to know what his life had been like before he was recruited by the Library.

"Can you at least give me the general gist?" he pleaded.

"We have a new assignment."

He took a breath, the tension fading from his expression. Irene had been confident that Coppelia would agree Kai had been targeted by their enemies in the previous case and that he wasn't experiencing hallucinations, but he hadn't shared her optimism. Coppelia wouldn't have allowed him to continue as her apprentice if she'd had any doubts, or so Irene hoped. Her nagging inner voice—the one who annoyingly blared unnecessary alarms—pointed out that their new task might be a test to determine which was the correct assessment and Irene would be judged accordingly.

While passing through the maze of corridors to the residential section, Irene kept the conversation light. "Please overlook the condition of my rooms. I haven't visited them since you were assigned to me." That was several months ago, and the last time she'd dropped in, she'd barely had time to change clothes.

"You mean the housekeeping elves haven't tidied up?" he asked with a smile. "My fellow students all assured me they're one of the many perks of being a Librarian."

She snorted. "I heard those tales too. I'm still waiting for my first visit. Although, compared with the bunkbed dorm-style accommodations you had to endure, my humble suite of rooms may seem luxurious."

He chuckled but didn't comment. She didn't have to be a mind reader to hear him say _but not compared to the palace I grew up in_.

Ordinarily his former life would be out of bounds. Once a person entered the Library, their past life was to be forgotten. It was a rule governed by necessity. Nothing aged within the Library—books and people alike remained as they were when they entered. Family members and friends who lived in the various alternate worlds which made up the multiverse quickly grew estranged.

But Kai had just completed his preliminary five years of studies. Irene was the first field Librarian he'd worked for. The time he'd been away from his family was relatively insignificant, and it was that past which had become central to the investigation.

During their effort to track down Count Lecerf, a rogue Fae who'd somehow acquired unique books that acted as portals to other worlds, Kai had been targeted several times. Was the count trying to kill him and if so, why? Or, as Irene suspected, was his intention something much more Machiavellian?

She stopped at a door in the residential hall of suites and entered the code into the lock. Unexpectedly, a wave of nervousness swept over her. Kai had been sharing her quarters in London for months. He'd already grown accustomed to the fact that she'd never win an award for tidiness. But their residence in a London mews had come to her along with the post of Librarian-in-Residence. There was an air of anonymity about the place which suited her. Inviting Kai into her private suite introduced a new layer of intimacy.

She shook off the feeling. This was business. She'd suggested the suite for its confidentiality, nothing else. The bedroom was still off-limits, and not simply because the bed was hidden underneath a mountain of clothes and books.

When they entered the living area, Kai cast a curious eye at her bookcases, all of them crammed with works pleading to be read. Irene removed a stack of German literature from a chair by her desk so he could sit down then repeated the maneuver for the French detective novels who'd made a nest on her desk chair.

"You'd mentioned a new assignment," Kai prompted. "Will we still be investigating Lecerf?"

"Yes and no," she hedged, grateful that Kai didn't comment on the state of her room. "Coppelia agrees that the nature of the attacks against us indicates that Lecerf had been supplied with inside information about our trips. The only people who were familiar with our itinerary in advance are Vale and the upper echelons of the Library. We can safely eliminate Vale as a suspect, although I'm sure Coppelia tried her best to make him the guilty party. In her eyes that would be far preferable to having a traitor in our midst."

He shrugged. "But it's not unheard of, especially now that Alberich has resurfaced."

Alberich. Just hearing his name filled her veins with shards of ice. The former Librarian was the only known traitor in the Library's long history. He'd fled long ago to ally himself with chaos. Outside the confines of the Library, he should age normally but was he even human at this point?

Alberich's current whereabouts were unknown. She and Kai had faced off against him on their first joint assignment and barely escaped with their lives. In the end, they'd succeeded in banishing him from Vale's world by trapping him between the magical force of the Library and warding shields erected by Kai to fend off chaos. Alberich had been literally squeezed out of existence to points unknown.

Kai was looking at her worriedly. "Are you all right? I shouldn't have mentioned him." His face betrayed a concern that reminded her of what he'd been like during their last horrific encounter with the traitor. The still-healing scars on her hand throbbed in response.

"Nonsense," she said, confining those thoughts to the dustbin. "We absolutely should discuss him. We don't know how much of a personal element is involved in Lecerf's attacks, but Alberich has reason to hate both of us. As an agent of chaos, he might view it in his interest to partner with Lecerf. But Alberich can't access my travel reports. They'll need to look elsewhere for the traitor."

"They?"

"Melusine, as head of Library Security, is in charge," she explained.

"Then what assignment did Madame Coppelia task you with?" he persisted.

"Nothing specific," she admitted, permitting herself a sly smile. "She left it to me to investigate as I see fit. We could return to London and continue the search for more portal-books, but I have a higher priority—Bradamant."

He stared at her, looking dumbfounded, and she quickly added, "Not that I think she's the traitor."

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Her behavior has placed you in harm's way on numerous occasions, but simply because she injected you with strychnine, there's no need to rush to judgment."

"Don't worry, I haven't forgotten." Irene didn't feel it necessary to detail the other petty, annoying, and sometimes dangerous tricks Bradamant had inflicted upon her. The Librarian only had a few years seniority over Irene, but she acted as if Irene were the scullery maid to her own magnificence. Okay, maybe that was a little harsh, but Irene could easily justify a generous amount of resentment.

Still, for all her faults, Bradamant had, to the best of her knowledge, always been a loyal agent to the Library. Her actions could simply be a manifestation of an overly competitive streak combined with ambition in hyperdrive.

"Since you became my assistant, Bradamant has appeared unusually inquisitive about my assignments," Irene disclosed, choosing her words carefully. "At first I believed it was because she was curious about you. I don't think she's been around many dragons."

"Perhaps she's envious?" Kai suggested with a hopeful smile.

"Of our relationship?" Irene's initial reaction was to torpedo that idea while it was still at the launch pad, but if Bradamant believed they were intimate, it could have influenced her behavior. "You may be right. She could believe that an acquaintanceship with you would give me leverage with the dragon kingdoms." Irene knew Bradamant had used sex to achieve her objectives. Perhaps she felt Irene was doing the same. "But her curiosity could be caused by many other reasons. I didn't mention anything to Coppelia because I don't want to cast any aspersions on her character until I have hard evidence."

Not that Bradamant hadn't done her best to lower Irene's standing, even framing her to be the scapegoat for her mistakes. But that had been before Kai began working with Irene. And she refused to sink to Bradamant's level . . . although a little daydream was surely permitted.

"What can I do to help?" Kai asked.

"Check with your fellow apprentices. See if they've heard anything about Bradamant. Meanwhile, I'll try to find out what alternate she's on."

#

Kai appreciated that Irene didn't bring up the possibility of a dragon working with Lecerf, although she must have discussed it with Coppelia. Someone had informed the Fae about an attempt to kill Kai when he was a stripling. Even worse, Lecerf was familiar with Kai's relationship with Ning. Kai hadn't thought many knew about his first love, but he might not be the best of judges. They'd both been so young. They undoubtedly weren't as discreet as they should have been.

When Irene theorized that a dragon could have formed an alliance with Lecerf, Kai refused to believe it. The Fae were the sworn enemies of dragons. How could anyone betray a member of their family to their foe? It was far more likely that Lecerf had seduced a human in Kai's uncle's court to act as his spy. In every kingdom ruled by dragons, administrative affairs were carried out primarily by humans with the assistance of a relatively small number of dragons. Regardless of who the guilty party was, understanding the motivation was just as critical.

Kai favored the theory that it was because Lecerf wanted to break up their team. The Fae feared Irene's ability and wanted to weaken her defenses before making a direct assault. Irene thought it more likely that Kai knew something which would be dangerous to Lecerf. An interesting hypothesis, but Kai had already racked his brain in a fruitless effort to find out what it would be. A third possibility was that Lecerf intended Kai to be the instrument of Irene's death. If Kai were charged with the crime, relations between the Library and Dragons could be seriously damaged. The Fae could take advantage of the situation to press for an alliance with the Library. The fragile neutrality which the Library maintained could be shattered.

Until they knew more about Lecerf's motives, Bradamant was as good a target as anyone. Kai didn't believe interviewing the apprentices would be productive, but he didn't raise any objections. His lowly status at the Library didn't permit him to access a Librarian's travel logs. Only Irene would be able to research Bradamant. She probably didn't want him to feel at loose ends.

Bradamant's supervisor was named Kostchei. Like the other senior Librarians Kai had met, the man had too elevated an opinion of himself. His superior attitude grated on Kai's nerves. Coppelia was harsh but fair. Kostchei verged on being a bully. It was possible Bradamant's ruthlessness had been fostered by her mentor. If she'd had Coppelia instead, her behavior might be quite different. Or was Kai being overly generous?

When Irene called him back to her suite at the end of the day, he noted with amusement that she'd straightened her room. There were still books on the floor but they were in neat stacks. A sign that she cared what he thought? The thought gave him a warm glow even as he mocked himself for it. Had he sunk so low that such a small token assumed such value?

Blast it, he had. This was something his family would never, _ever_ know. They had no problem with sex with humans, but to be smitten by one? He'd never hear the end of it.

He'd resolved to not attempt to advance their relationship until the threat was over, but if Irene chose to make any move in the privacy of her quarters, he wasn't about to raise any objections. That hope was soon torpedoed, though, as Irene was clearly only interested in business.

"Bradamant was sent on an assignment by Kostchei to Alternate D-483," she said briskly. "She's been gone for two weeks. So far she hasn't checked in."

"A little irregular but not that unusual."

"That's Coppelia's opinion too," Irene said. "I asked Coppelia for any details she could provide about the assignment. I didn't tell her about my suspicions, but without her help I wouldn't have been to discover the purpose of Bradamant's trip."

"How did you explain your inquiry?"

"Simply that Bradamant may have information relevant to Lecerf, a completely truthful statement."

"Are we waiting till she returns to question her?" Kai asked.

Irene smiled. "She dropped in on us. It's time we do the same. Given the present situation, it wasn't difficult to justify the need to talk with her without fear of being spied upon. Coppelia agreed with my decision."

A chance to escape the confines of the Library and see the sky again? Sign him up. For five years, he'd endured the confined surroundings of the premises without being able to step outside even for a brief moment. When his lord father arranged for Kai to be recruited by the Library, he hadn't warned him how difficult the initial internship would be. But now that Kai was assigned to Irene, he hoped he could prolong the mission as long as possible. So far his father had shown no indication of calling him back, nor had he sent any emissaries. And as long as no one told him about the attacks, the situation wasn't likely to change.

"What is D-483 like?" Kai asked.

"It's a typical Bradamant plum—more like a vacation than a mission," Irene said with a rueful chuckle. "Perhaps that's why she hasn't sent in any reports. Bradamant is in Paris. The year is 1793."

"During the Reign of Terror?" Irene's concept of vacation needed a drastic revision.

She smiled. "Not in this alternate. Louis XIV and Marie-Antoinette were champions of the enlightenment and beloved by their citizens. The financial affairs were in sound condition with no excessive taxation. The country was at peace with its neighbors. Society was highly ordered. You should feel right at home."

#

Irene knew it was coming. As soon as Kai heard about their destination, the selection of proper attire would move to the top of his agenda. Was a fashion sense an attribute of all dragons? Then it would be easier to explain why she had none. For a species that could transform its appearance, perhaps clothes reminded them of shedding their skins and as such assumed more significance.

Irene and Kai relocated to a nearby room dedicated to Italian science fiction which was conveniently supplied with two workstations. They worked side by side, Irene drilling down on city maps while Kai focused on their clothing needs. Irene sneaked the occasional glance to his monitor. The embroidered gowns of women were not quite as ostentatious as in some alternates but the styles still conjured up Rococo paintings of elaborately coiffed aristocrats in silk and satin finery.

"I can make do with an ivory embroidered waistcoat, navy silk embroidered jacket, and breeches," Kai said, ticking off the items on his fingers as if he were making a sacrifice. "I know you'd prefer something simple, so I'd recommend a robe à la polonaise, silk of course, with—"

"Stop right there. Have you checked the requisitions department recently? They only have a few garments available, and there are no court items of any description in my wardrobe. Are there in yours?"

He gave a mischievous smile. "Actually I do happen to—"

She groaned, perhaps louder than was absolutely necessary. "Forget I asked. You should know by now that I like to blend into the background of a new alternate until we've had a chance to assess the situation."

"Exactly," he agreed, nodding emphatically. "That's why I didn't suggest a robe à la française. I realized you would think it was too formal."

She didn't know the difference between the two styles and didn't want to be lectured on the subject. "I have a gown I wore in an alternate of a similar time period which will be quite adequate. It's cotton chintz. With a little lace, it should be fine."

He frowned. "What will your cover be?"

"A governess."

His shoulders sagged. "Isn't our goal to interview Bradamant? You know she won't be masquerading as anyone of lower rank than a duchess. I don't see how looking like servants will simplify our task."

"You can't be sure of that," she retorted, even though she knew he was likely correct. "Bradamant was to meet a marquis who was selling off a relative's library. She might have dressed down to barter for a better price."

Kai didn't deign to answer, simply heaving an excessively long sigh to register his opinion.

"My principle stands," Irene declared firmly. "Until we know what we're dealing with, we'll dress as respectable citizens of the lower class. That means trousers, not knee breeches, for you."

"You're making me go sans-culottes?" he huffed, looking ready to rebel on draconic principles. A reference to anything tied to the French Revolution was likely to fill a dragon with outrage. The lawlessness of the period was the equivalent in their minds with the chaos of the Fae, and thus anathema to the order-loving dragons. Irene had placed him between a rock and a hard place. As her apprentice, he had to obey her even if it violated his personal dress code.

But Irene liked to think that glowing embers of a rebellious spirit lurked deep within Kai. Allowing himself to be recruited by the Library? The value he placed on his friendship with Vale, not to mention his attachment to her? From her admittedly limited understanding of dragons, those were not typical traits. Dragons had the reputation of being condescending, arrogant, and dismissive of other species. Kai was none of those. He'd been a member of his gang when he was coerced to join the Library. Despite what Irene was certain was a royal upbringing, this was one prince who could storm the Bastille if necessary. Or was she fooling herself and that was simply wishful thinking? And why was she letting herself be distracted when she should be focused on the mission?

"I'll take along funds to purchase clothing if it's necessary to elevate our status," she said, softening the blow. "Besides, don't tell me you can't work the look of a peasant into something which will start a new fashion trend. Going as a member of the nobility would be too easy."

He snorted. "There's nothing wrong with simplifying our lives."

"Do you have anything suitable?" she persisted, sensing the battle was already won.

"Suitable is not the correct word, but I have adequate clothes in my room." He paused for a moment. "I guess this means no wigs either?"

"You presume correctly."

"A real shame." He smiled mischievously. "I'd love to see you in one of the immense wigs of the time. We could have embellished it with books instead of ships." His eyes lit up. "I wonder what coiffure Bradamant chose for herself."

"Hopefully we'll soon find out. We'll leave this evening."

"Once we're there, how will we locate her?"

"I'll scry for her."

His eyes widened. "I'd heard rumors of scrying being practiced by Librarians, but you've never mentioned it."

"And this will be my first time to practice it," she admitted. "Finding Bradamant in a city as large as Paris would be impossible otherwise." She pulled out a sheet of paper from her bag. "Coppelia requested Melusine prepare this for me." To Kai, the paper would look like Bradamant's name had been embossed on the center of the page along with the cartouche of the Library. In actuality, the name was written in the Language and could be used in combination with a map to pinpoint Bradamant's location.

He returned the paper to her. "If you say so. I'm looking forward to a demonstration."

"You'll have your wish. In the meantime, search for locations of libraries rather than clothes. Maps may not be easy to obtain."

#

The traverse to the alternate was in a room dedicated to medieval Icelandic sagas. Like most of the rooms in the Library, the decor reflected the subject matter. The bookcases were rustic, hand-hewn pieces made of spruce and richly ornamented with animal carvings. Stone panels with runic inscriptions hung on the walls. When Irene arrived, Kai had yet to appear. She sat down at the computer to review one last time the background information on Bradamant's trip.

The Marquis de Fourné owned a townhouse on the Rue d'Anjou. He'd placed an advertisement in the _Mercure de France, _listing his uncle's collection. One of the works was a previously unknown travelogue of a seventeenth century Portuguese explorer. Bradamant had been tasked with acquiring it. A Librarian of her skill should have acquired it within a few days, but perhaps she was enjoying the alternate too much to hurry back.

Irene heard the soft pad of footsteps behind her and turned to see Kai's vision of the idealized peasant. Clad in soft rumpled linen trousers, a baggy shirt with a rough wool jacket, and a floppy hat, he looked far more comfortable than she felt in her demure dress with a linen kerchief modestly tucked into the bodice. It was winter in this alternate. She'd draped a wool shawl over her shoulders. Her hair was tied back into a chignon at the base of her neck. Kai normally wore his hair tied neatly into a tail, but for this assignment his lustrous black hair hung like a curtain of silk around his head. "Will I pass?" he asked with a mocking smile.

"As I said before, you're likely to set a new fashion trend, but I appreciate the effort." In his simple clothes, Kai looked like a displaced member of the nobility. He couldn't help it. He was simply too handsome to not attract attention. "Your backstory is you're the illegitimate son of a nobleman. You've been living in poverty in Gascony and have come to seek your fortune in Paris."

He beamed. "I'm d'Artagnan? If I'd only known, I would have included a rapier."

She laughed. "We shouldn't need swords . . . unless Bradamant refuses to cooperate." That was a joke, she felt reasonably cofident, although if Bradamant had been spying on them, Irene would be tempted.

"Don't worry. I have a dagger," he said with only the twitch of a smile. After Bradamant's prior misdeeds, a box of poisonous spiders might be more appropriate.

"Where will we exit?" he asked.

"In a storeroom on the upper floor of the largest bookstore in Paris. It's on Rue Saint-Martin, within walking distance of Fourné's townhouse." In the evening, the store would be closed. They would be able to exit, take advantage of an atlas which the bookstore was bound to have, and use it to locate Bradamant. If all went well, they could hold that interview with Bradamant a few hours later.

The plan was solid. A true shame it was sabotaged from the start.

When they opened the exit door, instead of finding themselves in a stockroom, they were in the burnt-out carcass of a building. Kai stared at the wreckage in disbelief. "It looks like a bomb went off."

It was an apt analogy. She was amazed the traverse still functioned. The building was a mere shell. It appeared deserted. Fires were lit on the street. She could hear shouts and the clatter of carts.

What had gone wrong? Had the traverse been mislabeled? Before proceeding any further, they needed to regroup. Irene placed her hand on the closet door through which they'd entered and said, "**Door to the Library, Open**."

Nothing. No familiar wave of pressure which accompanied a connection with the nexus of the multiverse. It shouldn't come as a surprise. The room was devoid of books, its structural integrity a vanished memory. Why had the traverse worked for them in the first place?

"The destruction could have happened since Bradamant arrived," Kai said. "Surely she would have notified someone in the Library."

Irene nodded absently. A temporary traverse could be created in any room with a large number of books. Why hadn't Bradamant reported? Had she been caught in the explosion? "The downstairs may be in better shape. Let's see if we can find an atlas."

"We've got a more urgent problem," Kai said, peering through the gaps in the stone wall. "I just saw a group walking along the street, carrying pikes." He turned to Irene, his normally pale complexion bleached to white marble. "There are heads on those pikes. I thought you told me this world didn't experience a revolution."

Irene dashed to the wall and peered out. The building overlooked what should be a broad peaceful boulevard. Instead they were in the middle of a war zone. Bonfires were lit in the esplanade, its trees now charred and broken skeletons. On the street, it was a mob scene. The angry crowd was cursing the monarchy and the aristocracy. Looters were carrying away goods from the wreckage of stores.

If Bradamant had arrived in what she would have considered normal attire, she could have been arrested on the spot as a member of the nobility. Irene's investigation had suddenly turned into a rescue mission.

* * *

_Notes: Readers of the novels know that Kai was given a secret assignment by his father to join the Library. The mission is referenced in the 5th novel, The Mortal Word. Since my stories are set shortly after the first novel, Irene still knows nothing about it._

_For an introduction to the world of the Invisible Library, please see the _ [ _Tales from the Library page _](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/p/tales-from-library.html)_of the blog I co-write with Penna Nomen: _ [ _Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation_](https://pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com/)_. _

_Visuals for the story are on the Tales from the Library board of my _ [ _Silbrith's Stories Pinterest site_](https://www.pinterest.com/silbrith/)_. The board includes my dream cast of actors as well as location pics. _


	2. Switched Signals

**Paris, France. **

Irene surveyed the angry mob on the street below. "The political situation couldn't have deteriorated so quickly. Somehow we must have crossed into the wrong alternate."

"That would explain the heightened level of chaos," Kai remarked evenly.

She spun around to face him. "How heightened?" Not waiting for him to answer, she added, "Is it manageable?"

He hesitated for a moment. "It's much higher than the conditions in Vale's world but shouldn't pose any difficulties." He shrugged and added, "Perhaps I'm developing a greater tolerance." Before she could quiz him further, he asked, "Do you know of any instance a Librarian was misdirected to the wrong world?"

Irene didn't press. There was nothing she could do to alleviate his symptoms. If he was putting up a brave front, she was grateful he was capable of it. "It's never happened before to my knowledge. I'm positive the traverse we used was the one designated for Bradamant's assignment."

He drew a slow breath. "That raises the likelihood of sabotage."

"It's technically possible, although I'm not aware of any prior occurrences. Only the engineers responsible for maintaining the connections have the skill." Irene had never met any of the geniuses who regulated the integrity of the Library and its portals. They lived and worked apart from Librarians. If there was a traitor among them, they'd be a threat not only to alternate worlds but to the Library itself. 

"Bradamant may not even be here," Kai pointed out. "The traverse could have been tampered with after she arrived."

"Meaning that the sabotage was directed at us? The probability's not high. There are only two people who knew of our destination—Coppelia and Melusine."

"I didn't mean to imply that one of them is a traitor," Kai quickly added, "but someone could have hacked into their files. Vale would say we can't ignore the possibility, no matter how improbable."

She doubted Kai would have brought up Vale's reasoning if Coppelia and Melusine were dragons, but if she pointed it out, she'd sound defensive. They both had difficulty in grappling with the ugly threat of betrayal by those they trusted.

Kai had used Vale to buttress his argument. She'd be well advised to bring Vale's objectivity into her own thought processes. Fact: there was a traitor. Fact: it theoretically could be Coppelia or Melusine. Fact: they'd landed into a heap of trouble.

The ground floor of the bookstore was in as ruinous condition as the upper level. Only a few charred scraps of paper remained of what must have been a magnificent collection. Most of the books had probably wound up being used for kindling.

Their only tangible success from a search among the fallen chunks of masonry was that now their clothes were appropriately grimy. No one on the streets would give them a second look.

"How do you want to proceed?" Kai asked.

"We should investigate the townhouse where Bradamant was supposed to meet the marquis, but there's no certainty the address is correct. In this alternate, the marquis may not exist."

"And even if he does, the odds of him being alive in revolutionary Paris aren't anything I'd want to place a bet on."

Irene nodded, the image of the mutilated heads on pikes flashing in front of her once more. "At the very least, we'll gain a better idea of what we're up against." She picked up a blackened scrap of paper and approached Kai. "Hold still." She rubbed the paper into his cheeks and across his forehead. "Much better. Now you don't look so aristocratic. Forget what I said about making a fashion statement. This isn't the time."

He winced ruefully. "I'll never question your wardrobe advice again." He stood back and studied her thoughtfully.

"Anything wrong?" she asked. It couldn't be with her clothes unless he wanted to add some artistic rips.

He nodded. "You look far too beautiful. Allow me to return the favor." He picked up another charred paper and gently brushed her cheeks and nose with it. "Prepare to embrace the Revolution."

#

The marquis may have lived only a few blocks away, but it was no stroll along Hyde Park. They were jostled by the crowd as soon as they exited the building. The French being spoken was roughly the equivalent of the world they'd intended to arrive in. Irene's slang vocabulary was better than Kai's, and at first he let her do most of the talking. It allowed him to focus on keeping her safe. He quickly lost track of how many times he needed to punch lowlifes to keep them from attacking his "sister." His curses soon became as good as those of the local populace.

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité," the slogan chanted by all, was only loosely applied. Kai saw one woman attacked apparently because her gown was made of silk. His immediate response to go to her defense was quashed by Irene.

"We can't risk getting into a brawl," Irene muttered, clamping a hand on his arm.

"But it's unconscionable what they're doing. They could rape her, throw her into prison." He stopped voicing his thoughts aloud. The woman had grey hair. She likely had grandchildren. Her future was now awaiting her at the guillotine if she survived that long.

"I wish we could help too, but we can't save every innocent. Our focus has to be on Bradamant and reporting back to the Library."

He knew she was right and he made no further protest as she urged him into a back alley. His attempt to save the woman might not be successful in any case. Chaos was settling into his bones, depleting his strength. It would only grow worse the longer they stayed.

The address they'd been given was along a row of neoclassical mansions in limestone. Many of the buildings appeared to have been gutted, the townhouse of the marquis among them. The sound of raucous laughter filtered through broken glass in the windows. Flickering lights indicated the likely presence of lit fires.

"Squatters must have moved in," Irene said, studying the surroundings. "It's too risky to search the building unless we're positive Bradamant is inside."

"I haven't spotted any bookstores which haven't already been looted. People are burning paper for fuel on the streets."

Irene nodded absently. "Did you notice the group of nuns we passed?"

"I did. They appeared to be well protected by members of the National Guard." From what he could tell, the soldiers weren't employing their bayonets to enforce order. Despite their white breeches, dark coats, and tricorne hats, they were a disheveled, motley group. The only arrests he'd observed were of people being dragged away from their homes.

"And that's the conundrum," she said. "In all the alternates I'm familiar with which experienced the French Revolution, the Church was reviled as much as the state. Priests and nuns were executed, churches destroyed. But here, they appear to be protected. I saw a priest chatting with two soldiers, seemingly at ease."

"The Church may have backed the Committee of Public Safety or whatever the ruling body is called in this world," Kai suggested.

"It seems likely," she agreed, glancing up at the townhouse. "The Ile de la Cité is not far from here. We'll be able to tell from the condition of Notre-Dame Cathedral what the true situation is."

Kai's heart gladdened at the thought of being closer to water. The Seine, no matter how filthy, might contain a river spirit he could draw upon for help. His dagger felt pitifully inadequate against their foes. He'd never transformed into a dragon in front of Irene, but he could be forced to in order to protect her.

On their way, they passed the Place de la Révolution—what many worlds called the Place de la Concorde. But there was no harmony to be seen. Even at night, the guillotine was doing its grisly work. Two cartloads of prisoners awaiting their fate were lined up behind the platform. He saw Irene scan their faces anxiously, but Bradamant wasn't among them. Despite his dislike for her, Kai hoped she hadn't arrived in this world. He was confident that he and Irene could escape. If nothing else, he'd shed his human appearance and fly Irene to another world. But rescuing Bradamant was much more problematic.

#

Once she'd assured herself that Bradamant wasn't among the prisoners, Irene hastened along the Rue de Rivoli. She would have preferred to go along the Seine, but she had no desire to fight her way through the mob which packed the plaza. Watching executions had clearly become the prime evening entertainment. In some ways, it reminded her of an alternate she'd visited which resembled ancient Rome. She'd witnessed gladiator fights, but there the victims had a small chance. Here there was none.

The orders from the Library were strict and unbending. No interference with local cultures except for the sake of obtaining a book. And realistically, even if she caused the cart holding the prisoners to collapse, the mob would have quickly attacked them with the resulting deaths perhaps even more horrific.

But it would be a long time before she'd be able to think about the river of blood flowing from the guillotine without growing nauseous. The copper tang mingled with the smell of smoke, making her eyes burn. Kai had linked his arm through hers. His eyes were continually scanning their surroundings. So far they hadn't been bothered by anyone. He was undoubtedly a major factor. There were practically no unescorted women on the streets.

As they neared the first of the bridges linking the Right Bank to the Ile de la Cité, Irene spotted what apparently was an office of the National Guard. Two soldiers loitered outside. A French tricolor, somewhat worse for wear, was mounted to a pole.

Irene slowed her steps. "Have you picked up enough of the colloquialisms to carry on a conversation?"

He nodded. "What do you have in mind?"

"That National Guard station must have an atlas. I want you to offer your services. Ask them what the work is like, what you'd need to do to sign up, how much pay you'll get. Keep the questions flowing as long as possible. At this late hour, there can't be too many guardsmen inside. While you distract them, I'll search for an atlas. Can you do it?"

"It's my most fervent desire," he replied promptly. "If only there were still musketeers, you couldn't keep me away. You'll be careful, _sister_?"

"We'll watch each other's backs," she agreed. That's why they made such a good team. Their trust in each other was absolute.

The soldiers paid them little heed as they went inside. The large space looked like it had once been a shop of some sort. Several soldiers were playing cards at a corner table. One man who looked to be in charge stood behind a counter.

"Wait here, sister," Kai said loudly. "I shouldn't be long."

"Yes, brother," Irene said demurely, wrapping her shawl more closely around her. The gamblers didn't give her a second glance. A heavyset soldier sitting behind a desk to her right scanned her appraisingly then returned to his papers.

Irene kept an eye on Kai as he approached the counter. His acting skills were improving, or perhaps it was his youthful appearance. He managed to convey the innocent, wide-opened look of a boy infatuated with playing soldier. Had that been what he was like when he was a boy at court? At what age were dragon fledglings able to fly? Would Kai be appalled if she used the term on him? She was dismayed at how little she knew about the ways of dragons. Well, this fledgling appeared to be having no difficulties. The soldier listened to him indulgently with a fatherly air as Kai blithered on about his desire to join the Guard.

That left Irene free to find an atlas. There was a bookcase behind the man at the desk. The books appeared to be mainly journals, but there was a slim volume lying on a shelf which looked promising.

Irene retrieved a worn handkerchief from her bag and coughed into it. Holding the cloth in front of her face, she said softly in the Language, "**Legs on the chair to my right, loosen and collapse**."

A couple of seconds later, the soldier tumbled to the ground with a crash. The gamblers laughed uproariously at the commotion, one of them yelling out, "Better let me drink your wine!"

Irene rushed over. "Are you injured?" she asked solicitously.

"I'm all right, thanks, although . . ."—his eyes flitted over her figure—"I may have hurt my head."

She sidled between him and the bookcase and laid her workbag on the table. "You should lie still." She gently probed the back of his greasy hair.

"Do you need help, sister?"

When Kai called out, the soldier switched his focus to him. The others weren't paying any attention to her. She quickly slid her bag closer to the atlas.

Kai strode over, hoisted the fellow onto his feet, and dusted him off. No one noticed Irene slipping the atlas inside her workbag.

"Thanks for the information," Kai called out to the soldier behind the counter. "I'll be back tomorrow to sign up."

"My name's Armand," their victim said. "If I'm not around, ask for me. I'll show you the ropes. It's the least I can do after your sister's kindness. What's your name?"

"Philippe Boyer. This is my sister, Marie." Kai expressed his earnest appreciation, seemingly unaware that Armand was much more interested in seeing his sister again than him. 

#

"Good work," Irene said. "You gave a convincing performance."

Praise for his acting skill was not something Kai was used to hearing. He tried to restrain the width of his smile to modest proportions. "I hope they won't be too disappointed when I fail to return." He and Irene were back in the burned-out bookshop on the Rue Saint-Martin where they'd first entered this alternate. It was too barren to attract looters and provided a relatively safe if drafty haven for them. Its central location close to the Seine was also a plus.

They'd stopped at a stall next to the Tuileries Gardens to buy candles, wine, bread, and a hunk of cheese, vastly overpaying with one of the gold coins Irene had brought with her from the Library. The vendor must have thought they'd stolen it.

When they retreated to the upstairs of the bookshop, Kai used a piece of wood as a makeshift broom to clear off an area of the floor next to an interior wall. It was as much privacy as they'd be able to have.

Kai was familiar with magic spells but had never practiced the technique of scrying—the art of divination. Spells and charms were commonly used in dragon households, although he wasn't an expert in the discipline. Luckily Irene had never asked him about it. Sharing the secrets of dragon magic with non-dragons was forbidden. Humans in worlds ruled by dragons were often surprised that dragons were so conversant with it. They operated on the misguided assumption that magic played no part in maintaining order. They were wrong. Magic itself was neutral. It could be used to enforce order or chaos. Just like martial arts and swordsmanship, magic was practiced equally by dragons and the Fae. As for Librarians, Kai could only guess.

"We should soon know about Bradamant," Irene said. Like Kai, she was sitting on the floor. The atlas lay in front of them. "Coppelia assured me scrying will work. A little extra boost from positive thinking can't hurt." She removed the sheet of paper containing Bradamant's name and the Library seal from her bag and carefully smoothed it on her lap. Taking a breath, she opened the atlas. She then reached under her shawl to pull out a pendant dangling from her neck by a golden chain.

Kai's heart dissolved into mush. She was wearing the locket he'd given her before their trip to Yorkshire. He hadn't realized it since up to now it had been concealed by her shawl. Did it still have the strands of his hair? He'd not seen it on her since their stay in Thrushfield Hall, and the thought that she was wearing it made him feel warm inside.

He decided not to comment on it. She'd likely excuse it away by explaining that she knew she'd need something to scry with and it was a convenient size. Any hint of emotional attachment would be obliterated.

That's the attitude he should have as well. Surely the flashbacks about his first love were an adequate warning to banish any romantic thoughts about Irene. Irene was already in enough danger because of Lecerf. She didn't need any additional complications. He might not have been responsible for Ning's death, but there was no denying he hadn't given her adequate protection. He refused to make the same mistake with Irene.

Irene glanced up at him, seemingly oblivious to the effect that the locket had produced in him. "Wish me luck!" Her face settled into the focused expression she wore whenever she used the Language. It was as if she were summoning ancient Library gods to help her. And perhaps she was. Students were given zero instruction in the Language. Its mysteries were the exclusive domain of Librarians.

Irene dangled the locket over the atlas. "**Pages of the atlas on the floor in front of me, turn. Locket, indicate the place where the Librarian whose name is on the paper on my lap is found**."

The pages began to flip as the locket slowly swung like a pendulum. After a few pages, the locket jerked downward, yanking Irene's hand with it. It snapped onto the page as if it were a magnet.

They both leaned over the atlas. The locket was on a location on the Ile de la Cité, an island in the middle of the Seine—confirmation that Bradamant was in Paris and not far from them.

"Conciergerie," Kai said, reading aloud the script written on an outline of a building. "Are you familiar with it?"

"It's part of the Palais de la Cité, a royal residence, or what used to be a royal residence." Her expression grew somber. "In most alternates, the Conciergerie was a prison during the revolution. It housed prisoners awaiting the guillotine." She gave him a rueful smile. "We'd intended to check out the cathedral. The Conciergerie is only a few blocks away. Haven't you always wanted to break into a prison?"

"It will be a new experience," he said, adopting her lighthearted tone, and added, "I know you were hoping she wasn't trapped in this world. I'm sorry."

"Thanks. Despite our differences, I admire her ability. It's a puzzle why she hasn't been able to extricate herself."

"Fae involvement, perhaps?" he suggested. "With as much chaos as exists here, the local Fae must be reveling in it."

"It's possible. If they ensnared her with a charm which prevents her from speaking, she wouldn't be able to use the Language to set herself free."

"And on the positive side, she's still alive or you wouldn't have been able to locate her."

She nodded. "We won't be able to do anything till daylight. We might as well partake of this magnificent feast."

"Candlelight, wine, cheese, and thee?" He smiled. "Not a bad way of spending the evening at all."

The wine was barely drinkable, the cheese on the moldy side, and the bread stale but the company couldn't be beat. Kai wished they dared make a small fire, but they didn't want to alert anyone to their presence. The cold was becoming an increasing annoyance. As the evening advanced, Irene started to hunch her shoulders.

He shrugged off his jacket. "You should wear this."

"Thanks, but your shirt isn't very heavy. I can manage."

"Dragons have a greater tolerance for cold weather," he insisted and draped his jacket over her shoulders. Some dragons embraced frigid temperatures but he wasn't one of them, and in human form he was just as susceptible as her. Fortunately, she didn't know that. "You need this more."

"A likely story," she scoffed but gave a little sigh of pleasure at the heat radiating from the jacket.

He slid closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. When she raised an eyebrow, he remarked evenly, "It is the duty of the apprentice to provide assistance to their mentor."

"So it is." She reached for the bottle of wine. They didn't have glasses, but she'd had the foresight to pack a corkscrew in her workbag. He was making a note of essentials for his own work pouch for the next assignment.

"This wine does have one selling point," she said, taking a healthy swig. "It's much stronger proof than what we have normally. Do you think that's a deliberate measure to help calm inflamed spirits?"

"Or a way for the ruling Fae to get their kicks? Either way, the heat is welcome."

"This has to be difficult for you. Squalid conditions can't be something you're accustomed to."

He snorted softly. "Do you think I was raised in a life of luxury with servants to attend to my every desire?"

She turned her head to study him. "Weren't you?"

He hesitated over what to say. She didn't know his lord father ruled over the Eastern Ocean, though a few of her comments appeared to indicate she'd guessed he was of royal blood. It was not a subject he was allowed to discuss. In any case, how to explain to her he was raised as if a servant in his uncle's court? It was considered part of the toughening process. "No, I wasn't," he said, restraining himself to a limited description. "Dragons, whether male or female, aren't pampered when they're young. Our youth is something to be survived."

She offered him the bottle. "I didn't intend to pry."

"I know." It was considered poor form to ask anyone in the Library about their life before they entered, but Irene was bound to be curious about how he'd been raised. He'd checked the documentation about dragons in the Library and the evidence was satisfyingly sparse. Aside from knowing that dragons could change their appearance and ruled over kingdoms known for a high degree of order, there was virtually nothing else on file.

The clamor coming from the streets grew less as the night lengthened. They'd finished their humble picnic, and Irene's eyes were already half-shut.

"Try to get some sleep," he said. "I'll keep watch."

"You need your rest as well," she urged. "Wake me in a couple of hours." She glanced around the room.

"I'm the most comfortable cushion you'll find, and the warmest." He tightened his hold on her.

"I'll put your shoulder to sleep," she mumbled.

"No, you won't. Good night, Irene."

Kai felt more at peace with her in his arms than at any other time in recent memory. But sleep was not something he'd indulge in. Not with Irene there. She needed his support, his reassurance. Nightmares had become too frequent to risk a recurrence. Kai composed his thoughts as Master Wu had taught him. She'd instructed him not only in martial arts but also in self-discipline.

#

_Blood pooled under Irene's crumpled body as Kai clasped her to his chest. His tears were drops of acid on his face. _

_"This wasn't your fault." Jian Yu placed a hand on his shoulder and crouched next to him._

_"Yes it was," he insisted. "I was supposed to protect her. I failed her!"_

_"I'll take care of everything. The Library must not know. They'll hunt you down."_

_"I don't care. I deserve whatever punishment—"_

"Kai, wake up." His shoulder was shaken once more but not by Jian Yu. That was Irene's voice. Kai stared at her numbly. Tears still stung his lashes. She was alive. Nothing had happened. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and sagged back against the wall.

"It's still early. Try to go back to sleep," she urged. He hated to see the concern in her eyes.

He shook his head. "Impossible. I'm sorry I disturbed you."

"Don't be. Everyone has an occasional nightmare."

But not every night. Had he said anything? Irene had awakened after a few hours and insisted he catch some sleep. She laid his jacket over both of them, and despite the hardness of the floor, he'd felt so relaxed with Irene nestled next to him, he must have drifted off. The nightmares had become intolerable. Had he talked in his sleep? His face grew hot at what he might have said.

He took a breath to compose himself. "Like you said, it was just a bad dream. Since we're both up, should we go ahead and get started? Perhaps the early morning fare at the markets will be more edible than what we had last night."

#

Irene would have objected but Kai looked so embarrassed, she gave in. She was stiff from being on the floor so long, and he must be as well. Kai still had dark circles under his eyes, but she probably didn't look much better.

She'd never slept in the same room with him before. Were dragons inclined to nightmares? He'd been struggling for breath, tossing his head back and forth and mumbling in Chinese. She couldn't catch much of the meaning, but she heard her name and what sounded like Jian Yu. Kai had mentioned him as being the one who'd saved his life during a dragon rite of passage. Kai's words were too garbled to make out anything else.

Once this mission was over, she'd need to broach the subject. Given recent events and the uncomfortably high level of chaos in this alternate, Kai had every right to look tired, but this was beginning to be his habitual appearance. She'd first attributed his fatigue to stress over how Coppelia would view the incidents at Thrushfield Hall. Certainly, PTSD was nothing to be ashamed of. During his first field mission with Irene, Alberich had very nearly killed them both—multiple times. That was not recommended procedure for a newly fledged student. Add to that the pressure of being targeted by Lecerf, and a few nightmares were understandable.

Irene didn't want to raise the issue without cutting Kai a generous amount of slack. But it did make her guilty. She'd been experiencing the best rest she'd had in years until he grew agitated. She'd grown so accustomed to sleeping alone, she'd forgotten what it was like to be held by someone.

When she'd awakened in the middle of the night to find herself surrounded by Kai's reassuring presence, she could have purred like a pampered cat. Even in the dark room, his blue eyes flickered with an inner fire, but his smile was warm when he noticed she'd awakened.

He hadn't wanted to go to sleep. She'd pulled rank and insisted. She hoped his sleep wasn't always plagued by night demons.

When they left their makeshift haven on the Rue Saint-Martin, they discovered that they weren't the only early risers. Even during a revolution, Parisians attempted to maintain a semblance of normalcy. A plaza fountain was still operational. The water, though murky, didn't smell too foul. She and Kai along with many others stopped to splash water on their faces.

The market they'd explored earlier was already filled with vendors hawking bread and other provisions. They bought a baguette and cheese. There was no coffee or tea to be had, but Kai scrounged a bottle of cider from a friendly peasant who was selling bottles from his cart.

"Getting an early start, citizens?" the man asked, giving them a toothless grin. "Big day today."

"Is it ever!" Irene agreed, not having the foggiest idea of what he was talking about. "We hope to get a good seat."

"Don't dally over your breakfast," he said, nodding at their bread. "Some are already leaving for Notre-Dame. It's not every day the cardinal officiates Mass."

"We just arrived in Paris and feel blessed we could be here," Kai said. He managed to mold his features into an expression of youthful gullibility.

"As well you should, lad. As soon as I've made a few more sales, I'm going over myself. I've never seen Cardinal Robespierre, but everyone who has believes their lives were transformed."

Robespierre a cardinal? In most alternates, he was the head of the Committee of Public Safety. That would explain why the nuns had been protected on the street. In this world, the Church and the Committee might be the same body.

"I bet Robespierre's Fae," Kai whispered excitedly as soon as they were out of earshot. "This may be the right alternate, after all. Fae could have contaminated it with chaos and are now enjoying the spectacle. Lecerf could even be behind it."

"He brought in a doctored copy of _A Tale of Two Cities_ and used it to plunge a peaceful society into war?" She considered the frightening prospect. "The last Librarian report before Bradamant's ill-fated trip was a month ago. At that time there were no outstanding issues. This may not be connected to Lecerf, but the local Fae could be having a field day. It's even possible Lecerf is masquerading as Robespierre. We need to attend that Mass."

The Conciergerie was also located on the Ile de la Cité, only a few blocks away from the cathedral.

They took their breakfast supplies to the quai along the Seine and found a bench from where they could monitor the Conciergerie as they ate. The fortress faced the Seine. Even from across the river, they could see a number of soldiers from the National Guard.

Kai tore off a chunk of bread. "Perhaps I should enlist with the Guard, after all."

"It won't be necessary to go that far, but we may want to steal a couple of their uniforms." She scanned the scene for options. If only they could fly in a zeppelin from Vale's alternate, their task would be so much simpler. Possibly, Kai could transform into a dragon and fly to the top of the roof, but aside from terrorizing the local population, it wouldn't accomplish much. And, frankly, Paris had already seen far too much terror. The mob scene at the guillotine flashed in her mind once more. How could a Fae get his jollies out of so much despair and hatred?

"Irene, look," Kai urged. "Do you see that group in front of the Conciergerie?"

She squinted. Her eyes weren't as sharp as Kai's but even at this distance she could make out the nun. "Is that a priest with her?"

He nodded. "Perhaps he's giving sacraments to the prisoners."

She smiled. "We just found our way in."

* * *

_Notes: I'd outlined this story shortly before the fire at Notre-Dame. Writing about the cathedral reminded me of the abuse it suffered during the revolution and how it was healed from those wounds. I'm confident the restoration team will work miracles once more._


	3. A Nun's Tale

**Paris, France.**

**Paris.**

The plan was a simple one. Kai would first scrounge a cassock from the rectory. Irene would then sneak into a convent and steal a habit. They'd gain entrance into the Conciergerie, liberate Bradamant, and find a library where she could create a temporary traverse to reenter the Library. Now there were only a few pesky details to work out.

Okay, a lot of details, but Kai's enthusiasm served as a welcome boost of encouragement. Their first stop was Notre-Dame. As if they needed additional confirmation of the Church's special status, the cathedral's condition made it abundantly clear. In other alternates, the edifice had been pillaged during the Revolution. Here the stained glass in the rose windows was intact. The stone statues on the front facade all had their heads. The cathedral was an island of serenity in a sea of terror.

Irene and Kai managed to squirm their way into the crowd standing outside the entrance who'd gathered to see the cardinal. When he finally made his appearance, he arrived in a coach that could have been made for Louis XVI. The crowd let out a gasp in unison when Robespierre exited the ornately carved gilt carriage. He wore pristine white vestments under a crimson cloak and had a beatific look on his face. Irene was willing to bet the pope wouldn't have been greeted with more enthusiasm. Robespierre paused to wave his hand and give the crowd a blessing. He appeared to be in his sixties. His white hair was curled and gathered into a loose tail.

Irene bowed her head along with everyone else. Standing next to her, Kai muttered," Clearly Fae but not Lecerf."

A modicum of relief. This Fae was undoubtedly powerful enough. What would he be capable of if he had Lecerf's abilities? At least now she understood his motive. The adulation of the crowd was what drove Robespierre to greater excesses. She could only hope his overreach would eventually lead to his downfall just as it had in other alternates. Much as she might wish it to be otherwise, the Library couldn't correct a world self-destructing on chaos.

She and Kai needed to focus on the mission, and for that the steps were straightforward. Since the cardinal was celebrating Mass, most of the clergy would also be in attendance. While the cats were away, Irene and fellow mouse Kai planned to raid their larder.

Their first stop was the clergy house which was located a block away from the cathedral. Irene had spotted it on the way over by the number of priests exiting the premises. Kai had picked up useful thief skills during the time he worked with a gang before he was recruited into the Library. This should be an easy assignment for him. While she distracted the guard at the entrance with a sob story about a cousin who longed to enter a seminary but didn't have enough funds, Kai sneaked in through a back entrance.

She was just getting to the part where her unfortunate cousin had been injured by a cruel marquis when she spotted a priest exiting the front door. His hands were crossed in front of him and enveloped in the sleeves of his robe. With his hood covering his head and his face slanted downward, it was difficult for even her to recognize Kai.

From that point on, he didn't need to worry about anyone molesting Irene. With a priest accompanying her, she was clearly under the protection of the Church.

Their next stop was a convent, and Irene knew the ideal candidate. The Convent of the Celestines was on the Right Bank, close to the Seine and a short walk from the Ile de la Cité. In the alternate they'd intended to travel to, the convent was the most prestigious in Paris, with many women from the nobility entering its cloister. Irene was banking on the Church having maintained the establishment even during the Terror. A cruel Fae would no doubt wish to maintain a cloistered group of noblewomen to serve as his playthings. For their part, if they were given a choice between the guillotine and entering the convent, few wouldn't have seized on the opportunity.

The convent had another plus going for it. The Library of the Arsenal was only a block away. It was one of the locations Irene had noted before leaving the Library and she'd been pleased to find it was listed in the atlas she'd procured at the National Guard station. The former mansion of a marquis, in most alternates it had been claimed by the state and converted into a public library.

Was that why the library had been spared in this world? All Irene knew was that it was a relief to see it intact. The Tricolor was flying over its front entrance. A priest and nun should have no difficulty entering it, especially with judicious use of the Language.

"Let's split up," she advised. "While I'm at the convent, you should reconnoiter the premises. Find an out-the-way location for me to make a traverse."

"I'll also unlock a window or two in case we need to make a concealed entrance," Kai offered.

"All right, but only if you're sure no one can spot you. I have no intention of rescuing two from the Conciergerie."

"That goes for you too," Kai cautioned. "Even as a priest, I may not be welcomed inside the cloister."

Irene rolled her eyes. "I'll beat your time in the clergy house, and have a habit to spare."

Kai grinned. "A challenge? If only I'd known, I would have been even faster."

A reminder for them both to lighten up, no matter how dire the circumstances. That really needed to be an addendum in the Librarian's Handbook. A little healthy competition was highly desirable.

Acquiring the habits was a cinch. A few words in the Language convinced the nun in the front vestibule that Irene was a new washerwoman. The nuns must have all been at Mass as many of their cells were vacant. Irene slipped into one habit and grabbed a second for Bradamant. Now for the hard part.

#

"I don't see a listing for a Father Rochefort," the guard at the Conciergerie said, frowning as he studied the ledger book by the light of his torch.

"Please check again, my son," Kai said smoothly. "I'm sure you'll find it. The cardinal specifically requested me to administer the Last Rites to several of the condemned." He handed the guard a sheet of paper.

The document was a random set of scribbles, but the stationery looked official. Kai had lifted it from the clergy house. All Irene had to do was add the magic sauce. "**You perceive this paper to be an official communication from Cardinal Robespierre, ordering you to assist us with our requests**," she said in the Language.

The guard's expression cleared. "What do you require of me, father?"

"If you will be so kind as to direct me to the wing reserved for the female prisoners, I'd be much obliged."

The guard pointed toward the back of the vast vaulted hall which was currently being used for processing new arrivals. Narrow corridors led off the central space to the cells which appeared to have sprung up in all directions like a noxious fungus. Irene assumed that Bradamant would be in a cell to herself. They knew she was still alive, but she was likely incapacitated by Fae magic.

They'd waited till nightfall to make their approach. One of Irene's ironclad rules was that breakouts were much more successful under cover of darkness. The guards appeared to be used to the presence of priests and left them alone. The hall was filled with officials and guards overseeing bound and bloodied prisoners. The terrified faces of those who would soon be crammed into cells were pitiful to behold. Cries, shouts, and orders thundered in the hall, adding to the bedlam.

Some of the judges were likely Fae. A few of them sported smug smiles as they listened to prisoners pleading their innocence. Irene could feel her Library brand itch from the high level of chaos in the building. Kai's face was paler than normal. His tolerance appeared to have improved over prior occasions, but Irene didn't want to risk prolonged exposure.

They knew they'd found the women's ward when the cries became high-pitched. The tiny cells were each stuffed with over ten women. There were no beds and only straw on the floor. Rats scurried through the ground litter, making no attempt to conceal themselves. Irene's stomach rebelled at the foul odor. She saw Kai breathing out of his mouth and she found herself doing the same, limiting herself to tiny breaths of the putrid air.

The first corridors contained no private cells. It was only after they'd ascended to a higher floor that they found a few private cells in a tower. The guard at the entrance let them in without issue once Irene reminded him in the Language that they were emissaries of the cardinal. Irene steeled herself not to flinch at the desperate faces of the women held captive. These cells were no larger but they were finished with a rough bed on the stone floor. In the cell at the end of the hall, they found Bradamant.

"**Lock on the iron gate in front of me, open**," Irene commanded after a quick glance to verify the guard wasn't looking their way.

"I'll stay outside," Kai murmured. "With luck, the guard won't notice you've entered the cell."

Bradamant was sitting on the bed, staring at them wide-eyed. Her hands were bound together with rope and fastened behind her back. What once must have been an elegant gown in rose silk hung in shredded and grimy tatters. By now Irene was so accustomed to the stench, she was able to ignore the sharper pungency of the cell interior.

Bradamant's formerly lustrous espresso-colored hair drooped in lank locks around her face. Her mouth was open but no words came out. She was wearing a leather collar strapped around her neck. She hunched her shoulders upward as if to point to it.

The collar was likely enchanted to deprive her of speech, but it wasn't an obstacle for Irene. The intricate lock responded promptly to her command, allowing her to remove it. Irene didn't waste an instant on pleasantries. "We brought you a nun's habit," she said as she unbound the ropes around Bradamant's hands. "Can you walk?"

"And talk," Bradamant said, massaging the muscles of her neck. "What's the plan?"

On this occasion, Irene approved of her blunt manner. She didn't need thanks. She wanted answers, and Bradamant was going to supply them.

"Hey, you, priest!" a bass voice called out. "Stand back!"

"Make it quick!" Kai hissed through the iron bars. "Guards are coming. I'll hold them off."

He sped away. A series of thuds and shouts ensued.

Irene wished she could help him, but Bradamant was too weak to put on the habit without assistance. She didn't appear to have been tortured, but her gaunt frame indicated she'd been given barely enough food to survive. "Who put the collar on you?" Irene asked.

"A Church official. The others addressed him as 'Your Eminence.' I didn't have a chance to return to the Library. Soldiers were waiting for me when I exited the traverse."

Irene settled the wimple over her head. "Can you use the Language?"

"Count on it," Bradamant said with a touch of her old defiance.

"On my command, order all flames to be extinguished. We'll be plunged into darkness, but I've memorized the route. Hold onto my arm, and I'll guide you to safety." The vaulted central hall didn't have a single window. What made the fortress ideal as a prison would prove to be its weakness.

Kai reappeared at the cell entrance, smoothing down his cassock. "Are you ready?" His eyes briefly flashed red before reverting to their normal sapphire blue, and his voice was deeper than usual. When Irene saw the five soldiers lying unconscious in the hallway, she suspected he'd called upon his draconic abilities for a power boost.

"I've taken everyone out in this section of the tower," he explained, moving to Bradamant's other side. "We shouldn't encounter any opposition."

Between the two of them, they hustled Bradamant through the hall. As they left her cell, Irene ordered in a loud voice, "**All locks, open**!"

Bradamant smiled. "The prison overlooks the Seine."

"A few may be able to swim to safety." Irene couldn't provide much assistance but at least they'd have a chance to escape.

When they descended to the base of the tower, Kai sprang forward to take out the approaching guards. Irene stood next to the tower wall. "**Stones in front of me, collapse to make an opening large enough for me to escape**."

It was night. Some of the prisoners might secure their freedom in the chaos which would soon erupt. Kai's attack had left the guards senseless. By the time additional guards arrived to check on the collapse, they'd encounter an even larger problem.

When they entered the vaulted hall, Irene tightened her grip on Bradamant's hand and nodded to her. In one voice, they bellowed at the top of their lungs, "**All flames within the sound of our voices, extinguish**!"

In the pandemonium, no one paid any attention to a priest and two nuns fleeing through the front gate. The guards had disappeared. They must have already rushed inside.

Bradamant's temporary burst of strength faded rapidly. Once they were clear of the building, Kai lifted her into his arms and carried her. A few passersby murmured their sympathy for the overwrought nun, but otherwise no one paid them much heed. As for Bradamant, she appeared to be savoring the experience of being cradled by Kai.

_Don't get used to it. This does not signify the start of a beautiful friendship._

The windows of the Library of the Arsenal were dark when they approached. Earlier in the day, Kai had unlatched two windows that overlooked an alley. Thanks to his scouting, they knew they'd enter in a relatively safe section. The room was unoccupied, although the light coming from the hallway indicated the building wasn't completely devoid of people. Irene had no intention of waiting around to find out who might be there. A closet door next to a bookcase would serve admirably for their purposes. Standing in front of it, she said, "**Door to the Library, open**." Sometimes the pressure and distortion of entering a traverse seemed to be too oppressive to be endured. This time the effect was a reassurance.

#

"I was as surprised as you were to be in that alternate," Bradamant protested, pulling off her wimple. "It was a clear act of sabotage. How did you know that I was being held a prisoner?"

Irene had only stopped to send an email, reporting the essentials to Coppelia, before hauling Bradamant to her suite. Medical treatment could wait till after she'd coughed up answers.

Kai was standing next to the door leading to the hallway. His arms crossed, his eyes tracked every move Bradamant made. She was in no shape to attempt an escape, but he wasn't taking any chances.

"We only found that out after we arrived," Irene said calmly, placing the collar which had restricted Bradamant's ability to talk on the table. "We went to the world to question you on another matter, namely why you've been pumping me for information about my cases."

"I haven't—"

"Stop it! Do you want me to put the collar back on you and take you to Melusine? I'm giving you one chance to save yourself." _Which is more than you'd give me_. "Kai and I have now been targeted on four assignments. The last three all occurred within the past month, and you were involved in all of them. The retrieval in Montmartre had initially been your case. On all the others, you'd expressed an abnormal curiosity."

Bradamant exhaled. "I owe you that much, I suppose." She worried her lip for a moment. "I was acting under instructions."

"Kostchei ordered you to spy on us?" Irene demanded, dumbfounded that Bradamant's supervisor could be implicated.

Bradamant hesitated, glancing at Kai. "I can't say anything more in his presence."

Kai set his jaw. He likely thought Bradamant was trying to get him to leave so she could make her escape, but she could have a legitimate reason. She wouldn't be likely to divulge matters of betrayal involving senior Librarians in front of an apprentice.

"Kai, please stand outside the door," Irene said. "This shouldn't take long."

He gave a reluctant nod and did as instructed.

Bradamant waited for a few seconds before continuing as if she thought Kai would burst back inside. "Another one of the senior staff made the request," she admitted finally, keeping her voice low. "His name's Racine."

Irene had never met the man but she'd heard of him. Racine's specialty was the technology that was at the heart of the Library. How exactly the institution maintained its connections to alternate worlds while preserving its integrity at the nexus of the multiverse was only known to an elite group of experts. Racine was one of them. That someone of his stature would be giving orders to Bradamant seemed unbelievable. He was seldom involved with the junior staff, and Irene had never heard of him mentoring anyone. The way Bradamant was worrying her lip seemed to indicate she was well aware of it. Her normal snarky attitude had disappeared.

"Racine showed me instructions from Melusine," she confided. "He told me a dragon was trying to infiltrate the Library"—she glanced at the door— "and that Kai was the dragon. He'd concealed his identity in order to be recruited."

Irene stared at her, incredulous. She forced herself to give the idea careful consideration, outrageous as it sounded. She'd sometimes wondered how Kai had tolerated the five years of apprenticeship. The life of a student was a grind of constant study. Was an ulterior motive the reason he'd submitted to the drudgery? She could conceive of the possibility, but not that he would in any way try to harm her. She was positive that the traps at Thrushfield Hall and at Olmstead Manor hadn't been staged by him.

"Racine believes Kai is acting as a mole for one of the dragon kings," Bradamant continued. "Before taking any action, Melusine is collecting evidence of sabotage. Racine warned me that you may have also been compromised. He knew we'd worked together and requested my help. I was ordered to find out as much as possible about your cases." She winced. "But you weren't very forthcoming."

"Kai's no traitor," Irene insisted. "We were the ones who were attacked."

Bradamant shrugged. "Racine believed they were staged by Kai to divert suspicion."

There was an easy way to find out if she was telling the truth.

#

Irene placed a quick call to Coppelia who contacted the security head. Melusine insisted she hadn't communicated any instructions to Racine. The traitor was not Kai but Racine. As to the cause, that would not be easy to determine. Racine had vanished from his post the day after Irene and Kai left for Paris.

Melusine was able to confirm that the network had been rerouted. The enlightened world which was supposed to be their destination was still intact and uncontaminated by an excessive amount of chaos. As for the world they'd wound up in, its condition had been chaotic for over a century. Racine and Lecerf likely worked in cooperation to secure the cardinal's agreement to arrest Bradamant.

Racine was one of the few experts who knew how to reroute a traverse and hack into Melusine's emails. Understanding why he'd sabotaged Bradamant's mission was not so obvious. Had he planned to let Bradamant rot in prison? Would he have eventually demanded a ransom?

Bradamant was absolved from any complicity. Her testimony had been judged to be trustworthy. As a junior Librarian, she was in no position to question the orders of a senior official. From Kai's perspective, the best news was that no dragon was involved. His relief at the blame being placed on a traitorous Librarian was understandable if a little painful for Irene.

Coppelia believed that Racine feared Bradamant would expose him. Her help had been minimal. He may have decided to get rid of her before she sought verification. But why hadn't he simply killed her? It was an unsatisfactory conclusion.

For the moment, there was no immediate danger. Racine was no longer in the Library, so the traverses should be safe from sabotage. Irene and Kai were ordered to return to London while the investigation into Racine continued.

#

**Warren Mews. London.**

Kai lit a candle and placed it in the holder. He shut the door to his room even though Irene was out. He hoped the closed space would help him focus. Meditation was difficult to achieve these days.

Their return to London came as a welcome relief. The confines of the Library had become inhospitable. Bradamant had readily embraced the idea that he could be a traitor. The only consolation was that Irene didn't attempt to whitewash her prejudice. Was that how other Librarians viewed dragons? It was an unpleasant thought he tried not to dwell on.

Irene and Coppelia continued to support him, and that would have to suffice. Kai hoped the familiar surroundings of Warren Mews would restore his equilibrium. He began to spend more time with Vale, learning about his research and investigative techniques. Vale had asked for instruction in martial arts. They'd converted part of the basement of Vale's townhouse into a small studio.

In the past, Kai had found meditation an excellent way to regain his focus, but it wasn't working this time. The nightmares continued. He couldn't shake himself of the fear that Irene was in danger because of him. She probably thought he was suffering from PTSD, a delayed reaction from the earlier attempts on their lives. He'd caught her eyeing him worriedly despite his best efforts to appear as if nothing was wrong.

His cousin Jian Yu had written, suggesting Kai return for a visit. He was tempted to take him up on the offer. Jian Yu was the oldest of his lord uncle's sons and had acted as a surrogate older brother to Kai when he'd been a stripling at court. Jian Yu had rescued him when he nearly died during the trial of air and comforted him when Ning died. Kai had been able to talk to him about matters which would have been unthinkable with anyone else.

A knock on his door alerted him Irene had returned. When Coppelia requested Irene meet with her in the Library and he was excluded, Kai didn't know how he should feel. It was her supervisor's standard procedure, but this time Kai felt there was a deeper significance. Would she insist he quit? Was his presence considered too provocative? Would that be for the best? For Irene's sake, even if he wasn't fired, should he resign? But who else was available to protect her? As long as Lecerf and Racine were a threat, how could he possibly abandon her? His mind whipped from one option to another, all of them dismally depressing.

He spared a glance at the mirror as he walked to the door and adjusted his collar. Absolutely no need to be nervous.

"You're back earlier than I expected," he said, greeting her.

Irene shrugged. "Coppelia doesn't waste time." Her eyes flitted to the candle. "The news can wait."

"I'd already finished." He blew out the flame. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"I won't say no to brandy."

Irene waited to provide any details till they were sitting in front of the fire in the comfortable worn leather armchairs which had come with the flat.

"Coppelia had an update on Racine," she said. "Melusine's investigators discovered his skin had been stuffed inside a bottle and placed in a trash container to be recycled."

Horrified, Kai stared at her for the expected confirmation.

She nodded. "Melusine feels certain that Alberich has been residing in the Library, disguised as Racine. No one else to our knowledge has the ability to assume someone else's appearance. The way the skin was preserved was identical to the manner Dominic Aubrey's was."

Aubrey had been the former Librarian-in-Residence in Vale's alternate. Alberich had assumed his identity before discarding it for another. The news that the traitor was hiding in plain sight at the brain center of the Library must have sent a shock wave through the institution.

Irene frowned. "We'd succeeded in banishing him from Vale's world, but nowhere else apparently."

"I thought Alberich was so steeped in chaos, he wouldn't be able to enter the Library."

"That's what everyone believed," she said. "He must have found a way to purge himself. Bradamant's first contact with Racine was shortly before we went to Montmartre. Alberich must have made the switch in the weeks after I was appointed to take Dominic's place."

"He could still bear a grudge against Bradamant. She'd assisted in his exposure in London."

"That's what Coppelia feels. Alberich could have decided she was no longer of use and packed her off to the French Revolution. Vale could also be a target, but since he hasn't left his world, the risk is small. Coppelia believes that Alberich is still unable to reenter this world, but she doesn't know for how long that will remain the case. The news that the Library's greatest enemy was working at our technology center is being kept confidential. Our assignment to locate Lecerf is more essential than ever . . . and also more dangerous."

_Here it comes. She's getting another partner_. "There's nothing to suggest dragon involvement in the treachery," he ventured. Although he'd made it a statement, he braced himself to be rebuffed.

She gave a soft sigh as her lips tightened. "We don't know how Lecerf found out about Ning. Vale's been coaching you in investigative techniques. What do you think he'd make of your claim?"

"Not much," Kai muttered, even as he felt his anger mount at the thought of any dragon working with Lecerf. "Any possibility, no matter how remote—or distasteful—needs to be carefully evaluated."

"Now that we know Alberich is involved, it's more understandable how Lecerf could have obtained the information. Alberich could have assumed the appearance of any human working for a dragon and gained access to your records."

"He may try to do the same with you." Kai shrugged. "He could hope to use your parents to gain an advantage." Kai's heart lightened that he and Irene hadn't become intimate. Since Alberich when he was disguised as Racine would have had access to their files, surely he realized they'd only pretended to be engaged at Thrushfield Hall.

She nodded. "That's just one of many possibilities we need to be aware of. Both of us will have to be careful. Coppelia wants me to come back to the Library for a few days of advanced training in the Language. I'd like you to come back with me. You shouldn't be alone in London."

"That's not—"

Before he could finish his protest, she added, "We have to accept we've both been targeted. Reasonable precautions are not open for debate."

But he'd already spent too much time stuck within the confines of the Library. His eyes darted to the letter. "Could I visit my cousin instead? I haven't visited him since entering the Library."

"Is this Jian Yu, your uncle's son?"

"That's right. There's a high level of order in that world." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Dragons everywhere. No Fae would attempt an incursion. You can contact me at any time via email. It will take only a couple of hours for me to rejoin you."

She was eyeing him thoughtfully. How much did she suspect? Did she know how freaked out he was?

"I'll miss you," she said simply.

"It'll only be for a few days." _I'll return ready to be the help you need._

* * *

_Notes: Thanks for reading! Irene and Kai's adventures continue in the next story in the series, Merlin's Cave. _

_Blog: Penna Nomen & Silbrith Conversation _ [ _pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com_ ](http://www.pennasilbrithconversation.blogspot.com) _  
Pinterest: Tales from the Library board on Silbrith's Stories _ [ _pinterest.com/silbrith_ ](http://www.pinterest.com/silbrith)


End file.
